The Invisible Killer: An Alex Holmes Story
by AlexHolmes
Summary: With his daughter officially moved in to 221B, Sherlock begins on his first case as a father. Can the great consulting detective deduce what is needed in order to continue the job he loves and to keep his new priorities in check? Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, it's a shame really.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Sherlock awoke to sunlight streaming through the living room window. He had fallen asleep in his chair again. This was the third time this week. He stretched out his long legs and stood up, stretching out his back and arms as he went. He did not usually sleep this much, especially not out in the living room. He walked down the hall and looked into his bedroom at the small form which was still asleep in his bed. The child had been sleeping in his bed ever since he had brought her home from America 2 weeks ago. He knew that he should move her up to John's old room, but he didn't like the idea of the girl having a bedroom with an outside entrance. He didn't want anything to happen to her, to The Woman's daughter. To his daughter.

He had known of course, that he was a father from the beginning. From that fateful text message almost 9 years ago. The one that was sent because he refused to answer The Woman's calls. Those words were forever etched in his memory.

_**You're going to be a father, Mr. Holmes.**_

Of course at the time he had gone into shock. He had missed 12 more phone calls from The Woman over the course of the next 2 days. He had sat silently in his flat, John off visiting Harry, Mrs. Hudson fretting over him and bringing him tea which remained untouched. He may have never snapped out of it had Irene not climbed in his window.

"_Mr. Holmes, I see that it is not only my phone calls which you have been neglecting." She spoke to him with her soft voice, motioning to the untouched tray of biscuits and the still full cuppa tea. _

_He did not move at all to acknowledge her existence, simply stared on at the same spot on the wall which he had been watching for two days._

_She walked over to him quietly, holding out a snapshot. "Would you like to see her, Sherlock?" She asked him._

_Sherlock reached out his hand and caught The Woman's wrist in a tight grasp. He stood up and towered over her, looking into her eyes to search for a sign that this was another trick. When he was not satisfied with what he saw there, his eyes wandered down to her stomach which was lightly swollen with child. She was easily already 20 weeks along. He counted in his head once again to that night. The night that they had dinner. The timeline added up perfectly as he knew that it would. There was no denying the truth. When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever left no matter how improbable, must be the truth. Sherlock was going to be a father. _

He had of course handled the situation. He helped Irene to fake her death in Karachi so that she and the child would be safe. He even spent time with them during his own brief exile of the dead. However he never had imagined that his child would be here, in 221B Baker Street, asleep in his bed. Never had the thought crossed his mind that The Woman would be found by her enemies again. That the time would come when the child would be safer with him, a self-proclaimed sociopath than with her mother. However that time had come, and now he was not just a father in a far off land. He had become a daddy.

The past week of having his daughter live with him had been interesting to say the least. He had to learn to remember that children need to be fed, and quite a lot it seemed. For such a skinny child she sure did eat a vast quantity. He also had to learn how to share his flat with a cat. One which was constantly taking over his chair. He also had to deal with his elder brother Mycroft, as he continued to try to wheedle himself into the child's life, enrolling her in a prestigious school and threatening to tell Mummy if Sherlock did not follow his every order. Sherlock knew that it was silly to be afraid of what Mummy would do, but he also did not want to deal with it at the moment. He was having a hard enough time dealing with it on his own, let alone with his parents coming down to visit and trying to take over as he knew would happen.

He was brought back into reality when the child stretched and sat up on the bed, her dark curly hair knotted around her face and sticking up in all directions. He was still not used to the pang of emotion which he felt when he saw her at times like this. The happiness that it produced. The great Sherlock Holmes was going soft, and over a child.

"Good morning Daddy." She said with a smile, as she stood up on the bed and reached her arms out to him. "What's for breakfast?" Sherlock walked over and picked up her small form, drawing her into a hug. He never thought that he would gain so much from having someone so small around, even if at times she was incredibly annoying.

He carried her into the kitchen, setting her down on one of the kitchen chairs at a corner of the table which he had rearranged just for this. His lab had gained a domestic side, albeit small. He shook his head in wonder as he pulled out a bowl and filled it with Frosted Flakes. He set the bowl on the table in front of his daughter and filled it with milk. "There you go, Miss eats-a-lot." He said and ruffled her hair. He walked back to the bedroom to get dressed while Alex was busy eating her cereal.

As had become usual, Sherlock and Alex caught a cab at roughly 7.30 in order to make it to Primrose Hill Primary School by starting time. Sherlock was not too sure about this new school, they seemed a bit too stuck up, but according to Mycroft it was one of the best schools in the area. Sherlock instructed the cab to drop Alex off at the entrance, and waited until she was safely inside before giving the command to take him to St. Bart's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Molly Hooper paced across the room, almost spilling her coffee as she went. She was already behind in her work today, but she could not go on with this autopsy until Sherlock appeared. She had texted him this morning, but he had been taking Alex to school and so she would have to wait until he arrived. They all would have to wait. She sighed and sat down in her chair, her eyes coming to rest on the microscope which sat on the table in front of her. She smiled as she thought of her newest young friend, Alexandria, Sherlock's daughter. She still could hardly believe that Sherlock had a daughter, let alone that he was the one who was taking care of her. She shook her head and thought back to a few days ago when she had met the child for the first time.

_Molly had not been expecting Sherlock at the lab that day. Last she had heard he had left the country on an emergency case, one of which no one seemed to have information about. However Molly quickly found out that Sherlock's return was not the only surprise that she would be receiving. The most peculiar of them all came in the form of a small girl with silver blue eyes and dark curly hair. Sherlock walked into the lab as if he owned the place calling out to Molly "Hello, Molly." He said flashing one of his smiles and proceeded to pull a small child out from behind his back. "This is Alex, my daughter. Alex, this is my friend Molly." He smiled again, nodded his head and then flipped around on his heels, squatting down to the child's eye level. "You're going to stay here with my friend Molly, while I go help Uncle Mycroft with something. Be good please." With that the consulting detective stood up, pushed through the door and called out "Be back soon!"_

_Molly stood there, frozen in shock during the whole charade. The only sound which emitted from the room was the sound of the clock ticking, proving that time was in fact still moving. Molly gawked at the child who gazed back at her. Finally Molly blinked and took a breath. "Hi honey." She said with a smile, confusion still evident on her features. "What did Sherlock just say? He said that you're his… you're his…" She couldn't finish that sentence. It was too incredible to believe. This must have been some kind of trick._

_Alex sighed and rolled her eyes, looking very much like Sherlock at this point. "Daughter. He's my daddy." She said with an air of boredom. The child walked over to the microscope which sat on the table, trying to see into it._

_Molly walked over to her chair and sat down. "So, if you are Sherlock's daughter, then who is your mother?" She asked, still not truly believing that Sherlock could have a daughter, no matter how much she resembled him._

"_Irene Adler." The child said matter-of-factly as she pushed a stool over to the microscope. "How do you use this thing?" She asked._

_Molly took no notice of the child's query; instead she sat there shaking her head at the idea of Sherlock and Irene. "This has got to be a big joke." She said. "Irene Adler is dead. John told me. He said that she died in the Middle East."_

_The young child jumped down off of the stool and walked over to Molly, her silver-blue eyes taking in the older woman's facial expression. She shook her head. "Nope. She's alive. I'm not sure where she is though. She left me with daddy. Said that I'd be safer with him." The young girl shrugged her shoulders and looked around the rest of the lab, taking in all of the instruments._

"_Oh my god." Molly whispered as she watched the child. Everything about her screamed Sherlock. Her silver-blue eyes, her dark wavy hair, the way that she rolled her eyes, even the way that she examined the instruments laying around the room. "It's true. You really are his daughter." She said, leaning back and staring at the roof. Never would she have imagined that Sherlock would have a child. Molly stood up quickly and walked over to where the young girl was now standing, back by the microscope. She knelt down making herself eye level with the child. "I'm so glad to meet you Alex." She said sincerely, watching the child for her reaction._

_Alex smiled and then promptly climbed atop the stool in front of the microscope. "Glad to meet you too. Now can you show how me to fix this thing?"_

Molly shook her head at the memory, remembering how entranced the child had been with the microscope. It had kept her busy for hours, which was good since it had taken that long for her father to reappear. Molly had scolded Sherlock for abandoning his child with her; however he of course could not see how it was unacceptable. From his point of view, Molly should have been flattered that he entrusted her with his young charge. Sherlock may have been a father for over 8 years now, but he still had quite a lot to learn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note: I'm not too sure how I feel about this chapter to be perfectly honest. I'm new to writing this side of a story, so bear with me. Any and all advice would be greatly appreciated. :)**

**And thanks again for reading and reviewing! :)**

**Chapter 3**

Greg Lestrade stood outside the door to the Morgue at St. Barts and checked his watch for the 4th time. It was now 8.12. He had texted the consulting detective 45 minutes earlier, and was growing impatient. He had just pulled out his phone to text him again when Sherlock came storming through the door.

"Why did you not call me to the crime scene?" He said in his baritone voice, anger slipping through. He walked through the door of the morgue, Molly and Lestrade following behind, and up to the body which lay on the slab and began to examine her.

"We uh, we thought it was just a standard strangulation case." Lestrade said with a shrug. "And Mycroft told us not to call you unless it reached a 7 on your scale."

Sherlock growled. "Mycroft," He said his brother's name as if it was a cuss word, "Does not determine what cases I am to see or not."

"He just thought, that with Alex and all, that you should focus more on her." Molly said with a smile. "But it doesn't matter now, does it? You're here and I'm at a loss. We can't find a cause of death. She was strangled, but it wasn't what killed her. The tox screen hasn't come back yet either."

Sherlock allowed his eyes to move over the body, it was apparent that the woman had been strangled, and with something smooth, such as a tie. The woman's fingernails caught his attention; he leaned down pulling out his magnifying glass. The woman, a 43 year old CEO of Dorpal Industries had fake nails on. One of them however was missing. It was the white line across said nail that interested him. He felt the nail; it was smooth so the lines which crossed her fingers were Mees' lines.

_Mees' lines happen with renal failure, chemo patients and heavy metal poisoning. _Sherlock walked over by her mouth, leaned down and sniffed. _Garlic. _ He observed her skin closely; however with the amount of visits to tanning beds that the woman had made he could find no hyperpigmentation. He stood up, straightening his back and put his magnifying glass back into his pocket.

"She was poisoned, heavy metal. Most likely Arsenic. Of course since you have moved her from the scene and no doubt Anderson and all of the other clowns have trampled over all the evidence, you have most likely ruined any chance of finding the killer." Sherlock told the detective, still cross that he had not been called in earlier. "She was strangled with a tie, not too uncommon of a weapon in a corporate building. The question is, why would someone strangle her when she was already dying? Was the poison too slow? What changed?" Sherlock spoke more to himself than the others in the room, pacing the room with his hands behind his back.

"Maybe there were two different perps? The poisoner and the strangler?" Lestrade asked.

"The possibilities of that are slim." Sherlock said twirling around and sitting upon a chair nearby. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and thought. "Something happened. Something that caused the killer to want to end it quickly. And I suppose that the security camera showed nothing?" He asked briefly, already knowing the answer.

"No security camera in the stairwell. No one even reported her missing. The janitor found her this morning. " Lestrade explained.

Sherlock sighed. "Where's her day planner?"

"What?" Lestrade asked.

"Her day planner. A CEO of a company must have a day planner. Bring in her secretary and her day planner as well. Something changed and her killer did not like it." Sherlock stood up. "As for who her killer is, you have already gotten rid of far too much of the evidence; however I would say that we are looking for a man, one whom she trusted."

"A man?" Lestrade asked with surprise in his voice. "Most poisoners are women."

"Yes, but do most women wear ties?" Sherlock asked as he stood up and walked back through the doors out of the morgue.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sherlock directed the cabbie to return him to 221B Baker Street, however before they reached their destination, Sherlock received a phone call from a number that he did not recognize. He allowed the call to go to voicemail, however when the number called again he answered. "Hello?" He said into the phone.

"Hi Daddy." He heard his daughter's voice on the other end. She sounded upset, and possibly scared.

"What's wrong Alex? Are you hurt?" He asked, a million possibilities running through his mind.

"No. I'm okay. I just, uh…" She paused and sighed. "I had to call you to let you know that I uh… well. I." She sighed again. "I got in trouble… and… they want you to come here I guess."

Sherlock sighed. " I'm on my way." He said. He hung up the phone and instructed the cabbie to take him to Primrose Hill instead.

Alex slunk down in the hard plastic chair which sat in the front office, dreading the coming conversation. She really had tried to be good. Honestly. She liked this school. It was different from every other school that she had ever been to. She sighed and looked at the clock above the desk. 10 minutes had already passed since she had been forced to call her dad. That was new as well. No school in New York had made her call mummy. She squirmed on her chair as she waited, receiving a glance from the busy Mrs. Peterson. Alex closed her eyes and thought back to the incident which had brought her to this place.

_Alex was sitting outside on the grass with her new friend Jayden and her cousin Emma. They had been talking and laughing, having a grand time when Ryan Connell and his friend Caleb showed up. Ryan kicked over the pile of leaves which Emma had been stacking and then laughed. _

"_Oh no. Poor little girls, I broke their toys." He said in a mocking voice. Caleb snickered. "I don't understand why we have to share a school with _girls." _Ryan said, disgust in his voice. "My dad says that girls belong in the kitchen and at home. Not in school. Girls are dumb." With that Ryan and Caleb turned away laughing, Alex however would not take it. She jumped up and yelled at Ryan._

"_Oh yeah?" She yelled. "Girl's aren't dumb! We are much smarter than you! You're the dumb one!" _

_Ryan turned around, glaring at Alex. "Leave it to New York to talk back. You need to learn your place, girl." He said, obviously repeating words which he had heard before._

_Alex stormed up to him, glaring at him with hatred in her eyes. "I need to learn my place? I think that you need to. I would expect this from some backwoods redneck in the States, but not from someone here. We have a queen for crying out loud! You need to learn how to respect others!"_

_Ryan walked up to Alex, face to face with her. "No _girl_ is going to talk to me that way." He said, seething with anger._

"_I just did." Alex told him. _

_Ryan reached out and gave Alex a little push. "Well you won't do it anymore."_

And that was when she lost it. Her hand made itself into a fist and she swung it around, making contact with Ryan's nose. It had bled a lot, and she somewhat felt bad… but only somewhat. The school nurse had said that it wasn't broken, but Ryan sure thought that it was.

Alex was torn from her thoughts as her father walked in the in school building. Sherlock glanced at her deflated form and walked up to the front desk, speaking quietly with Mrs. Peterson. He was quickly ushered back to the principal's office, Alex trailing behind.

Father and daughter sat down in the chairs opposite the desk as Mr. Abernathy turned around in his swivel chair.

"So, Miss Holmes. Would you care to explain to your father what happened, or should I?" Mr. Abernathy asked, watching Alex's face. Alex sighed and bit her lip, but remained silent. Sherlock sat quietly, examining his young charge. His eyes ran over Alex's right hand and noticed that her knuckles were swollen and that there was a small drop of blood. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, steepling his hands.

"You punched someone?" He asked quietly, trying to decide if he was to be proud or worried. Alex stiffened next to him and looked into her lap.

"Did she tell you on the phone then?" Mr. Abernathy asked.

Sherlock stared at the principal as if he had grown an extra head. "No. I can tell when my own daughter has been in a fight. And I can tell that the other child deserved it." He said briefly. Mr. Abernathy stared incredulously at Sherlock.

"Well I completely disagree." Mr. Abernathy said indignantly. "Here at Primrose Hill we have a strict no-violence policy. And this is considered to be a red card offense. Due to this Miss Holmes must have a fixed term exclusion. We have decided upon a three day exclusion for this offense. She may return to school on Monday." He said with dismissal evident in his voice. Sherlock stood up and walked out, Alex quickly following.

As they climbed in the cab outside the school, Sherlock received a text.

_**Secretary found dead in car. Strangled. Had been headed to Sussex for some reason.- L**_

Sherlock quickly texted back and instructed the cabbie to take them to the crime scene. He wondered absentmindedly what he was supposed to do with Alex. He couldn't leave her with Mary and John, they were both at work. Molly was busy with the dead CEO and sending her to Mycroft would be just plain miserable for all parties involved. He sighed and then remembered her hand. No doubt there would be an ambulance there. He'd just leave her with them.

He sighed and sat back, thinking of how he was to respond to what had just happened in the school. He supposed that as a parent now he needed to say something about the incidence. He turned to look at his young charge.

"I was really rather hoping that your first time getting suspended would be for something more clever. Your mum told me all kinds of stories, frogs in the microwave, experiments gone wrong, the slide and the Crisco… And yet the first time you get in trouble here, it's with your fists. And obviously you need to be taught how to throw a better punch." Sherlock said offhandedly to his young daughter.

Alex just stared, open mouthed at her father who sat next to her in the cab, the streets of London passing by.

"And he did deserve it. Ryan I believe the nurse called him? He was the child blubbering away in the other room, crying like a baby about his precious nose, which most definitely was not broken. The child obviously suffers from nose bleeds. You probably hurt your own hand more than you hurt his nose." Sherlock barked out a laugh as the cabbie pulled off of the road where four police cars and an ambulance blocked off the side.

Sherlock handed a note to the cabbie and opened the door, instructing for Alex to follow him. He walked over to the police line, held it up and crossed under it, holding it for Alex to follow. He then walked over to the ambulance and spoke quickly to the EMT's. "She punched a boy at school, did more damage to herself than to the boy though. Look it over would you?" He instructed and then marched off to where the Navy blue Sedan sat with all 4 doors open in the field to the left of the road.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Updated. I added a new ending to this chapter. It didn't fit well with the next chapter, so I decided to move it here. Sorry for any confusion. :) And sorry if you're a fan of Donovan... I don't like her. That may have appeared in my writing some. Heh.**

Chapter 5

Sherlock observed the ground closely as he walked towards the blue sedan. Of course the idiotic Scotland yarders had already walked over countless amounts of evidence. He did however manage to find one line of foot prints in particular that looked different. He leaned down, pulling out his magnifying glass and examined the print.

_Roughly 28cm, Mens, Size 11.5. Around 165cm tall. Of average build._

Sherlock straightened his back and walked to where Lestrade was standing next to the car.  
"So, I finally have the opportunity to meet your kid, and it's at a bloody crime scene." Lestrade said cryptically nodding to the child who sat on the edge of the ambulance, a nurse looking at her hand.

"I had no other place for her to go." Sherlock said simply, looking into the car. The petite woman who was Andrea O'Hare's secretary lay in the driver's seat with her eyes wide open, the same marks of a smooth strangulation across her neck. Sherlock leaned in close examining the woman's neck. He found a small silk thread stuck on a rough patch of skin.

_Murder Weapon: Silk Light Blue Tie._

He sniffed her mouth and examined her fingernails.

_No sign of arsenic._

Sherlock noted that the car did not contain enough gas to make it to Sussex, and that there was no luggage or carry bag of any kind.

_Spur of the moment trip, not planned._

He turned around quickly, his long wool coat spinning around him. "We are looking for a man who has money. Roughly 165cm tall, average build and a size 11.5 in shoes. He is a business man of some kind, and prefers a silk tie; this particular one was a light shade of blue." He told Lestrade, an air of boredom evident in his baritone voice.

"Daddy!" A voice called out, causing Sherlock to turn and see his daughter darting through officers and under another yellow line, running his way. Alex ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him. "They are trying to make me wear a brace. I don't like braces. I won't wear it." She pouted not letting go of him. Sherlock stood awkwardly in the girls embrace for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

Lestrade and all of the other officers stared at the two. "Hell, Sherlock. This is a crime scene. You can't let a child run all over it!" Lestrade said, breaking the silence.

Sherlock held Alex out at arm's length and looked her over. It was then that Alex first noticed the dead body in the car. She ducked around behind Sherlock and looked into the car with interest. "She was strangled." She whispered her voice holding equal amounts of interest and fright. "Why was she strangled?" She asked her father, looking up at him, curiosity evident in her small features.

"That is the question." He said, pulling her away from the car. "Why was she strangled and not poisoned? You won't find any traces of arsenic I'm sure." Sherlock said talking over Alex's head and to the inspector detective once again. "You also won't find any fingerprints. This killer is clever. He wouldn't have left fingerprints behind. So why did he need to kill this person as well? What made her so important? A simple secretary, running for her life. She knew that something was wrong. She knew something... too much perhaps?" Sherlock spun around, staring at the car once again, completely oblivious of his daughter whom he still held on the shoulders. "Oh, that must be it. How obvious." He said. He pushed Alex over to Donovan. "Here you go Alex, this is Donovan. Stay with her for a moment please." He said and then turned back to the car.

"Her datebook? Her phone?" He asked Lestrade as he ran his eyes over the contents of the car once again.

"Phone was found in her pocket, no datebook. Not unusual though, most people only use their phones these days." Lestrade told him.

"No. Not this lady. She enjoyed writing. Look at the ink marks on her hand. They are all over. Quite common in a right handed person who writes with a ballpoint ink pen often. She wouldn't have kept the only records on her phone. She would have a journal or a datebook of some kind." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, steepling his fingers. "She knew somehow that her boss was being poisoned, and that scared her. Scared her enough to run away. Now the questions remain, who was it, and how did she find out?"

Alex stood with the lady whom her father had briefly introduced as Donovan and took in her cross features. It was evident that she did not like her father. Alex glared up at her.

"Are you the police?" She asked the scowling woman.

"I'm a detective sergeant." Donovan corrected.

"My mum didn't like police." The young girl told her and shrugged. "Apparently my dad does though."

Donovan scoffed. "Your dad doesn't like anyone. He's a bloody psychopath. The only person he likes is himself."

Alex glared at him. "That's not true. And if all police are like you then it's no wonder mummy hated them." Donovan laughed at that, making Alex all the more angry. She stomped on Donovan's foot producing a howl from the elder woman and ran off again, towards her father.

She had almost made it to the police line before Donovan caught Alex by her right hand. Alex let out a small whimper due to the pain which shot through her throbbing hand. "Come on brat." Donovan said. "I know just where I can put you to keep you contained." Donovan pulled her to a police car and shoved her in the backseat. "Now just stay put until your freak of a father is done."

Alex glared through the window at the mean lady and tried to open the door, only to find that there was no door handle. She banged on the window with her good hand and yelled "Let me out!" Donovan only laughed and walked away. Alex slumped down in the seat. "Fine then. Just leave me." She huffed and looked around her surroundings.

There was a glass partition keeping her from the front seat and the doors and seats were all padded. The windows obviously did not roll down and Alex began feeling claustrophobic. She laid on her back on the seat and kicked at the window as hard as she could, hoping that maybe she could get out. When that didn't work she tried kicking at the glass partition with no luck. She huffed and threw herself back onto the seat, pouting. There was no way out and she knew it.

Sherlock finished talking with Lestrade about what needed to be done next and went in search for his daughter. He knew that Donovan was probably the worst person to leave her with, but he needed her out of the way long enough for him to think. He walked towards where Donovan stood and stopped when he did not see his daughter with her. "Donovan! Where is Alex?" He asked starting to feel a bit panicked.

"Oh I stuck the brat in a car. I think she broke my little toe." She said with a glare. "Definitely your daughter, freak."

Sherlock turned away from the woman and searched through the cars, looking for his daughter. He was worried when he had checked almost all of the cars save for one and he stomped over to the last becoming frustrated with the whole situation. His frustration quickly subsided though when he spotted Alex in the last car, drawing on the windows with a marker. She had written the word "HELP" backwards all across the windows of the back seat. Sherlock chuckled as he pulled the door open.

"I hate Donovan. Her name should be Dragon." Alex said growling.

This made Sherlock laugh even harder. "Dragon. I like it." He said with a smile. "Come on, let's go get that brace and I'll introduce you to my friend Lestrade."

Alex sighed. "He'd better be nicer than Dragon though." She said gladly taking her fathers hand as they headed back towards the Ambulance.

Lestrade watched with amusement as the Great Sherlock Holmes argued with a small child over wearing a brace. He could tell that the consulting detective was becoming frustrated, but the girl held her ground. There was no denying that the young girl was his daughter. Not only did she have his eyes and hair, but she also had his attitude. Lestrade tried to hold back a chuckle but failed. He walked over to where the pair stood arguing, just hearing the end of the argument.

"You will wear this." Sherlock told her, exasperation evident in his voice.

"No. I won't." Alex replied.

"I'm your father dammit, and you are going to wear this brace. If you refuse to, then I'll just take you to the surgery where John works and have him put you in a cast."

Alex glared at her father. "You wouldn't."

Sherlock glared back at his young charge. "Watch me." He told her.

Alex searched his eyes, hoping to find a reason to not believe him, but all that she saw was determination. She sighed and held out her wrist. Sherlock gently wrapped the brace around her small wrist and then turned to where Lestrade stood chuckling.

"Well I'm glad that someone gained pleasure from that." He told Lestrade sarcastically. "Alex, this is Gavin Lestrade, Lestrade, this is my daughter Alex."

"It's Greg." Lestrade said and put out hand towards the young girl. She took it and shook it.

"You're a police man too." She said, looking him up and down. After deciding that she liked what she saw she nodded her head. "You're nicer than the Dragon though. I know that already."

Lestrade looked at Sherlock questioningly. "The Dragon?" He asked.

Sherlock's mouth twitched up at the edges. "Donovan." He said with a glint of laughter in his eyes.

"Ah, yes. She can be quite hard to get along with at times." Lestrade told the girl, leaning down to her level.

"She locked me in a car." Alex pouted. "But I stole her marker." She added with a smile, holding up the black permanent marker which she had used to draw all over the windows.

"Mm, yes." Sherlock said giving Alex a look that said to keep quiet. "Well, we best get going Alex, we apparently have a lunch date." Sherlock quickly grabbed the young girl's hand and started walking towards the street where a sleek black sedan was waiting.

As they climbed into the car Donovan's voice could be heard yelling in the distance "That brat! Boss! She drew all over the windows of our car!" Sherlock chuckled as the cab drove off.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: A special shout out to fairytale city. She's been helping me with beta-ing. :) Also I hope this works out since I'm posting it from my phone.**

Chapter 6

The sleek black sedan turned onto Pall Mall as Alex watched all of the lofty and exquisite buildings pass her by. When the car stopped, Sherlock climbed out and Alex followed.

"Where are we daddy?" She asked as they walked up to the big double doors. Sherlock remained silent but pressed a button on the keypad to the right of the door and it clicked open. They walked in silence to the lift and Sherlock pressed the unmarked button which was positioned at the top of the list.

The lift started moving and brought them up to what Alex counted as the third floor.

When the doors opened Sherlock walked quickly to the massive oak door which swung open as he reached it. A woman stood just inside with long brown hair which curled at the bottom. Without ever looking up from what she was typing on her mobile she motioned the pair in and shut the door.

Alex followed her father through the grand receiving room and to another set of wooden doors which he pushed open harshly.

"Let's see…" He said as he stood in the doorway, blocking Alex's view of the room. "The last time you called me to your house I had caught Bart's morgue on fire." Sherlock chuckled at the memory. "What have I done this time brother mine?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sherlock walked in the room and Alex followed behind, finally able to take it in. The room was massive, lined with bookshelves upon which every book was precisely 2 inches away from the edge. The far wall was covered in a grandiose picture window which over-looked London. The walls were a sage green and the floors made of shiny wood. Two beige arm chairs and a burgundy couch sat in the center of the room upon an ancient yet well maintained burgundy oriental rug. A large desk sat in front of the window, and behind the large desk sitting in a black padded chair was none other than the British Government himself.

Mycroft waved his hands to the chairs and couch as he stood up and walked over. "Please, have a seat." He told them.

Alex quickly sat upon the long couch. Sherlock however watched his older brother carefully as Mycroft sat down in one of the arm chairs. "I'd rather stand, thank you."

"Very well then." Mycroft said, sliding his eyes over to Alex. Alex tried to read the look on his face, but couldn't decide if he was upset or if he just always looked so cross. "Alex, what happened at school today?" He asked, mashing up his face into a forced smile, one which did not reach his eyes.

Alex's own eyes grew wide as she glanced at her father. Sherlock sighed. "I've already dealt with this Mycroft." He said boredly. "Remember. I am her father, not you." He growled the last part.

Mycroft laughed without humor. "Oh yes. You dealt with it. If by dealing with it you mean practically telling her that it was fine and offering her boxing lessons for next time."

"Not boxing, however that is a good idea." Sherlock retorted with a smirk. His eyes grew deadly cold at what he said next. "Did you see her hand? The school was so concerned about the blubbering boy with a bloody nose, yet no one bothered to check her hand, which is sprained by the way. Some school."

"Oh brother dear, they tried to look. Your daughter is just too stubborn for her own good, she gets that from you I suppose. She refused to allow them to look at it. That is beside the point though. They were prepared to exclude her for two weeks because of this little incident. I was able to pull some strings and bring it down to three days. However they will not be as understanding next time." Mycroft returned his attention to his young niece who was sitting quietly on the couch. "That means you need to be less like your parents, and more like a well-behaved little girl."

Alex's expression of uncertainty quickly turned into a glare as her uncle said these last words. "I want to be like my parents." She told him with ice in her voice. "Mummy told me that girls are just as smart as boys and to always stick up for myself." _Granted, mummy would not have been pleased with the punch either,_ Alex thought to herself. She would give anything to see her mum right now... Even if meant that she would be in trouble. Alex shook her head and pushed away the sadness and hurt and instead turned it into anger against her uncle. He was an easier target at the moment. "Even though mummy is gone right now, I'm never going to forget that. You don't have any right to tell me how to act. You aren't my mummy or my daddy. You're just a bossy old man!" Alex huffed and glared at her uncle with a look that could kill.

Sitting across the way Mycroft watched the young girl closely, trying to decide which reaction to exhibit. It did not help that her father stood by one of the bookshelves laughing silently. _Of course he found it entertaining. He was just like the bloody child! _Mycroft had known from the first time he had lain eyes upon the child, when she had thrown a baseball across the room just to get their attention, that she was going to be a handful. Having one Sherlock was hard enough. Having two was right up there with World War 3. Frankly, if given the choice, Mycroft would have chosen the war. However family was family, and no matter how trying or annoying they might be, he would make sure that they were well looked after.

"Well then." Mycroft finally spoke. "Next time stick up for yourself with your words. At least those don't leave physical evidence."


End file.
